


Chicago Knights

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-23
Updated: 1999-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: This story is a sequel toVictoria Redux.





	Chicago Knights

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Chicago Knights

(Introduction: This is the second story of the Adventures of Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP; Det. Ray Vecchio, Chicago P.D.; and Constable Laura Harkness, RCMP. For those who just joined us, I refer you to "Victoria Redux" which is posted in the fan fic archives. To get you going, Laura was transferred down to Chicago after her substantial computer hacking skills got her in trouble due North. The man who used her skills (and her heart) is in jail, much to her relief. She discovered the story of Victoria Metcalfe and Benton Fraser in the RCMP Personnel Files and when transferred to Chicago revealed to Fraser and his friend, Ray Vecchio, that she'd found Victoria. The story of their journey is "Victoria Redux." Laura is mid-30s, not a great field officer but one terrific hacker. She is 5'6" tall and has long blonde hair which is usually braided while she's on duty. She is very tolerant, has a great sense of humor about Ben and Ray's relationship, likes Dief and has 3 brothers. For more details, I once again refer you to "VR." -- The author.) 

# CHICAGO KNIGHTS

by Carol Cricow 

copyright 1996 

The grass felt good under his feet. It had been too long since he'd been able to really break loose and run free and long. The spring air was full of interesting odors: he quickly identified the markings of other dogs as well as squirrels, some bread crusts and even, he turned his head to test the direction, chocolate. Somewhere in this lovely green flowered meadow there was chocolate. 

He turned briefly to be sure the woman was there. She was. Not too far behind. He liked it when he got to stay with her better than when Ben left him with Ray. Her place was quieter, not so full of people, more like home. Besides, the children at Ray's kept trying to climb on him and they pulled his ears. He stopped briefly and shook to let go of the memory. 

Ahead the chocolate smell got stronger. He also liked being at the woman's because she fed him well. She always had good kibble plus left overs and, quite frankly, she was a better cook than Ben. Given an ultimatum, he would, naturally, have stayed with Ben. After all, he'd saved Ben's life so he was responsible for Ben. But he would have been perfectly happy if the woman moved in with Ben. Yes, that would be nice. 

He stopped abruptly as the chocolate smell materialized into a wrapper. Not much left but he licked and chewed it up happily. The woman caught up to him then. He liked the way the Spring sun shone in her yellow hair. He was finally getting used to yellow haired women. It had taken awhile but this one had become quite familiar. 

"Dief, you nutcase. Dog's aren't supposed to track candy bars. Sorry, wolves. Anyway, it's a good thing there's nothing left to this one," Laura Harkness shook her head at the wolf. She was glad that Ben Fraser had left Dief in her care as she'd grown quite fond of him. "Here, eat this instead," she said, handing him an apple core which he took happily and chomped on. Laura laughed. 

She was really enjoying the sun. It had been a long, dreary winter in Chicago. In between a few days of cross country skiing and some ice skating (she and Ben had started a tournament league of two; she led by one point), the days had been dark, windy, cold and gloomy. More snow was predicted for tomorrow so she figured they'd better take advantage of the sun while it was out and warm. She jumped and ran and danced in circles with her arms out and face up to the sun. Since she didn't see anyone around, she let out a rather blood curdling scream. 

"Hey, Cut that out -- my ears!" she heard Ray Vecchio's familiar voice call from across the field. He was late but she was glad he'd come. She yelled again just for fun. 

"What a glorious day!" she greeted Ray as he got up to her. She grabbed him hands and made him dance with her in circles until they both collapsed onto the damp grass. Dief came over to lick both faces now that they were close by. 

"Aaaaaa. I'm being kissed by a wolf. Dief, cut that out," laughed Ray as Dief laid a wet tongue on his cheek. Laura grabbed Dief and pulled him off Ray. 

"Not everyone enjoys your attention, Dief, so save it for those of us who do!" She gave the wolf an affectionate kiss on his forehead and threw a stick which he promptly ran after. 

"Did you bring food?" Laura asked with a rather wicked gleam in her eye. 

"I thought you were supposed to bring the food," Ray started indignantly until he caught the gleam. "Very funny. No, Laura, I didn't bring food. YOU brought food. I brought drink." He pulled a bottle of wine out of the bag he was carrying. 

Laura took the bottle and inspected the label closely. "Good choice, Vecchio. A nice, light chablis. Perfect for a spring day like this one." She took the backpack off her shoulders and undid the top. It was full of food. "I don't want to unpack this until we've set up a picnic area." She looked around and then pointed off to the right. "Over there. Nice trees, good sun!" She started off towards the trees she'd spotted. Ray followed. 

He spread Ma's blanket over the grass and dirt under the tree. Laura sat down and started unloading the back pack of its chicken, salads, fruit, potato chips and finally, half of a chocolate cake, in a plastic container. Dief had come back with the stick and was eying the food carefully. 

"Not for you, friend," Laura said as she scratched his ears. "For you, a special treat. Homemade kibble, liberally doused in chicken broth." Dief's nose started wiggling almost immediately. "But not until Ray and I start eating." Dief whined a bit but at a stern glance from Laura, he stopped and simply sat quietly, waiting. 

"When's Ben due back?" Ray asked. 

"Not for another couple of days. I'm glad he went to Ottawa for the special training. He can learn the new computer programs and then teach them to me. I'll pick them up faster than he will." She was pulling out plates, napkins and cups. "I must say, though, it's kind of lonely in the office with just Meg and Turnbull. Meg's always locked away and Turnbull, well, let's just say his conversation leaves something to be desired." 

Ray's eyebrows went up rather knowingly. "You know, I've been thinking that maybe Turnbull and Frannie might hit it off. What do you think?" 

Laura's look of astonishment said a lot but quickly changed to one of thoughtfulness. "Might work at that. Heaven knows he won't be able to take advantage of her." At Ray's widened eyes, she added, "Not that anyone can take advantage of Frannie, Ray. She's a pretty strong minded person." She smiled and Ray relaxed. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon eating, running with Dief, playing catch and strolling through the park. They'd become good friends on the trip last Fall to Vancouver and had spent quite a lot of the winter together with Ben and Dief. Ben and Ray had standing invitations to come to the club where Laura sang and Laura and Ben had standing invitations to Sunday and holiday dinners at Ray's. Ray had a standing invitation to Sunday and holiday dinners at Laura's with Ben if he needed it, which he had more than once. 

It was getting late when they found themselves back at the field. "The Riv's parked not too far from here," said Ray pointing across the field. "I'll go get it while you collect Dief. I know he's nearby." 

Laura handed him the backpack and kept the blanket. 

"Okay," she said, already looking for her companion. "Dief!" she yelled. "Diefenbaker, where are you?" 

Ray disappeared across the field just as Dief bounded in behind her. "There you are. Where have you been?" Laura scolded. 

"With me," said a strange voice. Laura turned but before she could see the speaker, the world went black. 

Ray put the backpack into the car and drove to a space closer to the field. He waited for Laura but after ten minutes, he got concerned. 

"Maybe she can't find Dief," he muttered to himself. He waited a couple more minutes but it wasn't like Laura to take so long so he got out of the car and headed back to the field. 

At first, he didn't see anything. Then he realized that the white lump on the other side looked rather dog like. There were no people anywhere. He trotted cross the field with an increasing sense of foreboding. "Damned hunches," he said breathlessly. About half way across he knew that was Dief on the ground and that Laura was missing. He ran faster. 

He knelt by Dief's body and felt the chest. "Thank goodness," he breathed. Dief was alive but unconscious. He couldn't see any blood or other signs of injury as he gently checked out the wolf. What really worried him was that he couldn't see Laura either. 

Dief whimpered a bit and Ray petted him soothingly. "Where is she, boy? What happened to her?" He hesitated to yell. Something was very wrong and he could feel it. He stood up and started walking carefully through the trees near Dief. He didn't see anything at first but then he realized that the colors behind one of the bushes were the same ones in the blanket he'd borrowed from his mother. Then he started yelling. 

"Laura!" he called repeatedly as he started running through the trees. His calls were met with only the sound of wind through the trees and occasional whimpers from Dief who was struggling to stand up. 

After he'd been through every inch of ground in the area, Ray finally realized she was gone. He went back to Dief who was standing unsurely where Ray had left him. 

Ray knelt down by the wolf and stroked his head. "Where is she Dief? What happened?" Dief could only groan a bit and yawn. "Can you walk?" Ray asked him. In response, Dief took several tentative steps. Ray took the blanket, which he'd retrieved from the bushes after a thorough check for anything resembling clues nearby, put it under Dief, lifted the wolf, and carried him to the car. 

"Looks like we have our work cut out for us, Dief. We'd better get started," said Ray as he started the Riv and headed for the emergency veterinary clinic. "Once we find out what happened to you, we have to find her," he scratched Dief's ears. He didn't feel good about this at all but he knew that he simply had to take it one step at a time and Dief was the first step. He'd call Thatcher and Ben once he'd taken care of the wolf. Spring was not starting out at all well. 

The Vet said that the tranquilizer that brought Dief down was a short-term one. "Like the ones you see on tv that the researchers use." Ray just nodded. "It lasts maybe 30 to 45 minutes, depending on the dosage and the size of animal." Ray nodded again. That matched the timing at the park. "Leave him with me overnight. I'd feel better if we can keep an eye on him." Now the vet was looking rather curiously at Ray. 

"We get this wolf in here a lot, it seems like. Is there some reason he keeps getting injured?" The vet was looking at Ray suspiciously. "And where's his owner, the Canadian?" 

"He's a police wolf, Dr. Harding, and Constable Fraser's in Canada at the moment." Ray didn't feel like providing any more information. Luckily, that seemed to do the trick. 

"You can come get him tomorrow, after noon, providing there aren't any complications." 

"Thank you, doctor," said Ray as he turned and left the building. 

He decided to give finding Laura one last try so he headed out towards her apartment. The feeling of panic that he'd felt at the park but suppressed while he dealt with Dief started coming back. "I don't like this," he said to himself as he turned onto her block. "I don't like this at all." He pulled up outside Laura's building and parked. It didn't look any different than usual but something felt wrong. Maybe just his knowing that she had disappeared. 

He went up the walk and bounded up the steps and through the front door. Laura's apartment was on the second floor on the left. When he got to the door, his training kicked in and he pulled out his gun. He knocked. No answer. So he took a handkerchief and put it on the door knob, turning slowly to see if it moved. It didn't. The door was locked. But to his surprise, the pressure he'd put on the knob moved the door itself. 

As the door swung open, Ray realized that the latch had been broken so while the knob was locked, the door itself was not. He stepped quickly across the threshold, his gun in front of him. Every sense told him that something was not right although in the dark, the room looked normal. He turned on a light switch, again with a handkerchief. 

Ray straightened up. The furniture was in the usual spots, but the coat closet door was ajar and Laura's coats were strewn on the ground in front of it. He didn't know what to make of that but he knew Laura and her place well enough to know instantly that the picture he was seeing was very wrong. 

He moved quickly through the living room and into the bedroom. Although the furniture hadn't moved, all the clothes from her closet were again on the floor. He went into the bathroom which seemed fine except that the shower curtain and its rod were on the floor. Someone had been there looking for something or, rather, Ray guessed, looking for Laura. He moved back into the other room. 

Laura's living room was open to the kitchen and on the kitchen table, Ray noticed a calendar. He recognized it as the one Laura kept on a cork board in the kitchen. Today's date was circled in red with the words "Picnic-Ray-Mayor's Park-Noon" written on it. He wondered why the calendar was on the table but decided to file that information for later. It was time to get some help. 

Ray pulled out his wallet and dug through it for the number Fraser had given him. It was Thatcher's home number and Fraser had given it to him "just in case." He'd given Welsh's home number to Fraser at the same time. "This is a case," Ray said to himself as he pulled out the piece of paper and dialed the number on his cell phone. 

By now it was about 7 p.m. "Yes?" It was definitely Meg Thatcher's voice. "She's just as personable on the phone as she is in person," Ray thought wryly before responding. 

"Inspector Thatcher. This is Ray Vecchio. Of the Chicago Police Department," he added as an afterthought. 

"I know who you are Detective. Why are you calling me on a Sunday evening? This better be good. And where did you get this number anyway?" Thatcher didn't sound too pleased. 

"I'm sorry to bother you," began Ray, completely ignoring her last question, "but I have reason to believe that Constable Harkness has been kidnapped." 

Thatcher's "What?!?" just about pierced his eardrum and he quickly pulled the phone away from his face. 

"Uh, well, you see, sir," he'd picked that up from Fraser but he wasn't sure she'd appreciate that particular salutation so he changed it, "uh, I mean, ma'am, the Constable and I, that is, Constable Harkness and I, went on a picnic at Mayor's Park this afternoon and we had a great time. Weather was really nice. We had Diefenbaker with us." 

Thatcher interrupted Ray's monologue. "Detective, get to the point." 

"Well, I went to get the car and when I came back, Diefenbaker was unconscious and she was gone." Ray stopped to let that sink in. 

"And, did you search the area?" Thatcher asked. 

"Yes, ma'am, well, as best I could. I kept an eye on the wolf and I circumvented the entire field -- we were walking back through a field and Dief disappeared which is why I went to get the car while Laura, er, Constable Harkness went to find him -- anyway, I circumvented the entire field. Nothing. I also searched the trees and bushes bordering the field and found Ma's blanket." Ray paused. 

"Ma's blanket?" Thatcher echoed. 

"Yes, ma'am. You see, I took the picnic backpack to the car and the Constable kept the blanket while she called Dief." 

"Where did you find the blanket, Detective?" Thatcher seemed to be processing the scene. 

"In a bush, ma'am, about 10 feet into the trees. It was about 20 feet from where I found Dief. He was lying about where I last saw Laura, er, the Constable." Ray waited for her reaction. 

"Detective, I'm aware that you and Constable Harkness have a social relationship. Did you see anything else?" Thatcher was starting to sound impatient and, to Ray's ear, worried. 

"No, ma'am. Nothing. But there is one other thing." Ray waited a second. 

"Yes?" came the irritated response. 

"Her apartment's been broken into. Looks like someone was trying to find her. Her calendar's on the table and our picnic's on it circled in red. She probably circled it but the calendar's usually on the wall." Ray let that sink in. 

"Have you alerted your fellow detectives?" He was glad that Thatcher was moving ahead. 

"No, ma'am. I thought you would like to know first." 

"Thank you, Detective. Very considerate. Call your precinct and get some detectives to the park and to the apartment. Now! And call your lieutenant. I want everyone you can find on this. And Fraser. Call Fraser. What part of the park?" It sounded like she was putting a coat on as she spoke. 

"The west side, ma'am. Just off Daley street. There's a field there." 

"Be there as soon as you can -- and get the others there. Tell Fraser to get back here immediately. Next flight. Understood?" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"And Vecchio . . ." Thatcher continued. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Bring a flashlight." Before Ray could respond, the phone went dead. 

He called the precinct and told Elaine to get Huey down to the park with as many others as they could round up on short notice and with flashlights. 

"Ray, I'm off duty. I was just putting my coat on. Can't someone else do it?" Elaine sounded tired and annoyed. 

"Elaine, it's Laura. She's been kidnapped." 

"WHAT?!?" Elaine's voice screeched through the phone and Ray pulled it away from his ear again. 

"Cut that out. My eardrums have taken enough for one day. Look, Elaine, Laura's gone and someone's been in her apartment. Someone took her and we need help searching the area, okay?" He knew Elaine liked Laura; they'd become friends over the winter as Laura had taught Elaine how to hack the computer. 

"You could have said that first, Ray," Elaine complained, sounding rather hurt. 

"Look, I'm sorry but I'm a little upset, okay. Please, Elaine, get as many detectives as you can down to the Park as fast as you can. And call Lt. Welsh and tell him. I think he'll want to be there. Inspector Thatcher's on her way. Oh, and call a squad car to secure the apartment and get someone down here to dust and check it out." 

"Consider it done, Ray." Elaine said. He could hear her rolodex rattling. "And Ray?" 

"Yes, Elaine," Ray sighed. 

"Find her." 

"You got it," Ray responded with an optimism he didn't really feel at that moment. 

His next call was to Fraser and he didn't relish making it. He dialed the number in Ottawa. It was close to 8, so that meant 9 in Ottawa. Knowing his friend, Ray figured he'd at least be in his room, if not asleep. The phone rang five times before it was picked up. 

"Hello?" came a somewhat groggy voice. 

"Benny?" Ray asked, just to be sure. 

"Ray?" responded Fraser, also to be sure. 

"Yeah, we have a problem." Ray hesitated to give Ben a chance to wake up. 

"A problem, Ray?" Ben was sounding a bit more alert. 

"It's Laura. She's missing, Benny. I think she's been kidnapped." Ray waited, with the phone away from his ear. 

"You sure she isn't just somewhere you can't find her, Ray?" at least he hadn't screeched. 

"Yes. Well, we went on this picnic and she was trying to find Dief while I went to get the car and she disappeared." Ray figured the short version was the best, given that this was Fraser and it was long distance. 

"There must be more than that, Ray." Ben 's voice had an investigative edge to it. 

"Yes. And someone's been in her apartment. The stuff's thrown out of all the closets and the shower curtain's down. My guess is that they thought she might be there but hiding." Ray hesitated but Ben didn't say anything, so he went on. "And, Benny, someone drugged Dief. He's okay though and he'll be out of the hospital tomorrow." Ray plunged on. 

"Great Scott, Ray. You're sure he's okay?" Ben was definitely awake now. 

"Yes, the overnight's just a precaution. Thatcher says you should come home to help find Laura. I have to go over the the park. We're going to do a thorough search, which, actually, I already did but you know how it is. They always want to be sure you didn't miss anything. And we've got some people heading for the apartment too." Ray paused to breathe. 

"Ray, let me be certain I understand this. Dief was drugged and he's in the hospital and Laura disappeared and someone's been through her apartment?" 

"Yes, Benny. You know that calendar she has on the wall?" Ray paused, "well, it's on the table and the picnic is marked on it -- date and time and place." 

"I'll catch the next plane, Ray. I'll meet you at the park or somewhere as soon as I get in." Ben hung up the phone before Ray could confirm. 

Ray put the phone back into his pocket. He looked around the apartment and then closed the door behind him, leaving the light on. He got into the Riv and headed for the Park. 

He rolled the Riv's window shut, remembering how warm it had been that afternoon. "It's getting cold," he said to no one. Laura was wearing some pretty light clothes. "I hope wherever she is, it's indoors," he said, again to the car. "And I hope she's okay." 

The park was awash in light. Not only did the approximately twenty police officers (Ray made a quick guess) each have at least one flashlight, but the four patrol cars and two unmarked cars that had brought them all there had their headlights pointed towards the bushes. The fact that they weren't pointed where he'd found the blanket or last seen Laura struck Ray immediately and he approached the chaos. 

He found Thatcher in the middle trying to make sense of the enthusiasm around her. 

"Inspector, the headlights need to move south about 20 yards." Ray pointed to where he meant. "I'll get them to move the cars." 

He went over to a street officer he recognized. "Johnson, get those cars moved. About 20 yards to the south," he pointed again, just to be sure. "That's where I found the blanket and I last saw Constable Harkness about five feet to the left of that." 

He found that Thatcher had moved beside him and without saying anything, the two of them headed towards where the blanket had been seen. 

"Detective?" Thatcher started. 

"Yes?," Ray had a pretty good idea what her question was as it was the one bothering him too. 

"Who would want to kidnap Harkness?" She looked at him. He could definitely see what Benny saw in her. She was both beautiful and intelligent. And, at the moment, worried. 

"I've been trying to figure that one out myself, Inspector. All the way over here. Can't come up with anything that makes any sense at all." Ray sighed. Laura didn't have enemies that he knew of; for most of the cases she'd helped with, she'd never even seen the criminals. She worked the computer angles. And she got along well with everyone. That was one reason, he suspected, that so many police were milling about. Laura had a lot of friends. 

They went to the place he'd found Dief. He showed Thatcher the spot and the bush where he'd found the blanket. They searched around the bushes nearby carefully and thoroughly and found absolutely nothing. The ground was dry but full of dead leaves under the trees so there weren't even any footprints. 

"Nothing." Thatcher's comment was a statement and she sounded even more worried than before. 

"Yes, ma'am. I want to check in with the other detectives." Ray 

turned and headed back to the field. 

He saw the supervisor of the night shift and figured she'd be the best officer to ask. "Sir," he began and then felt silly. "Damn," he thought, "what to they WANT to be called." He decided to just go on. "Why isn't Det. Huey here?" 

"I sent him over to the apartment. I wanted someone good there, Detective." Sgt. Cassiday sighed. "Do you have any idea, Vecchio, who would want to do this?" she asked. 

"No, sir. None. But I'm still working on it." 

Thatcher emerged from the bushes then and started towards Ray. Just as she got to him and nodded a hello to Sgt. Cassiday, a voice rang out from the area just beyond where the blanket had been. 

"Got someone here!" 

Ray froze and saw that Thatcher did too. He suspected her first thought was the same as his. "He said 'someone,' Inspector, not 'body.' Whoever it is, it's alive." 

They hurried to where the policeman's voice had come from, and pushed their way through the gathering crowd. There was a man, obviously homeless, lying on the ground blinking in the flashlights shining in his eyes and cowering under a blanket full of holes. He looked scared. 

Ray stepped forward. "What's your name?" 

The man blinked and hesitated. "Your NAME?" Ray said louder and in a bit less friendly tone. 

"Zachary Taylor, sir." The man cringed a bit. 

"How long you been here, Taylor?" 

"I, uh, I'm not sure." The man looked around at the police officers. A pretty intimidating group, Ray knew, and figured he'd take advantage of it. 

"Give us a guess. Was it light?" Ray moved closer to Taylor. 

"Yes, sir." 

"See anyone?" 

"Well, I saw you and that girl you were with." The man said it slowly and cringed again at the end of the sentence. 

"Anyone else?" Ray let the reference to Laura go for the moment. 

"Well. . ." he hesitated. Ray glared at him and moved even closer, crouching down to eye level. "The white dog." 

"Wolf," corrected Ray instinctively. "Anyone else?" 

"Let me think," Taylor scratched his beard thoughtfully. Ray could smell the liquor on his breath. It brought on a quick vision of his father on a late Saturday night; a vision he quickly sent back where it came from. 

"There were the two men. Oh yeah. Two men, carrying your girlfriend. Figured she was hurt since she seemed to be out cold. Friends of yours?" Taylor had no idea of the impact his statement caused in his audience. 

"No. What'd they look like?" Ray was having trouble keeping his temper under control but he tried to think like Benny and so far he was holding on. 

"Oh, dunno. It was kinda dark by then. Young -- younger 'n' you I think. Kinda tall. Short hair." 

"What color hair?" 

"Dark kinda -- I couldn't see too well." Taylor yawned broadly and the odor almost knocked Ray over. 

"Clothes?" Ray asked. 

"Yeah, they had clothes on." Taylor blinked again. 

"No, you MORON. What kind of clothes?" Ray was shouting. He felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him up. It was Thatcher who pushed him back and squatted next to Taylor. 

"I'm sorry Mr. Taylor. I know that it's hard for you to remember. But it's really important. The men, can you remember their clothes or anything else about how they looked?" 

"Jeans." Taylor added conclusively. 

"I beg your pardon?" Thatcher asked. 

"Jeans. They wore jeans. Nice ones. New ones. One of 'em had a plaid shirt. Didn't notice the other. Does that help?" 

"Yes, Mr. Taylor. Anything helps. Now, the woman they were carrying, could you describe her at all?" Thatcher leaned towards him and then back a bit. Ray smiled inwardly knowing the reason. 

"Blonde. I could see that even in the dark. Long hair. The one with the plaid shirt was carrying her so I couldn't see much else. She was definitely out cold, though. Saw that right off. Wondered about it but since he . . ." Taylor pointed at Ray, "didn't come after her, I figured it was ok." 

Ray didn't see the logic but figured there wasn't much point in going into it. He turned to the nearest patrolman. 

"Take this man in. Clean him up and see if you can get any kind of a picture out of him. Show him the mug books." He saw Lt. Welsh coming through the crowd. 

Thatcher stood up and waiting for Welsh. 

"Lieutenant," she held out her hand. Welsh shook it and nodded at Ray. 

"Vecchio, I just spoke to Huey. Can't find any prints in the apartment except yours, Fraser's and Harkness's. Whoever went in was clean. Any luck here?" Welsh looked concerned. 

"Yes sir. We found a witness, of sorts. Homeless guy. Saw Laura carried off by two men. Both younger than me, tallish, wearing jeans and one with a plaid shirt. Dark hair, short. So far, that's about it. It was getting pretty dark when this happened." Ray said to Welsh. 

Welsh nodded. "Any ideas on who would do this or why?" 

Ray shook his head. "None, sir, and believe me I've been trying to figure it out." 

"Inspector? Any enemies? Criminals she put away who'd be after her?" 

"No, Lieutenant. Not that I can think of. Harkness wasn't in the field much so she didn't even see most of the people whose cases she worked on." 

"Well, Vecchio. I don't see that there's much more to be done tonight. Damned cold air is coming down from Canada again and we'll all freeze to death if we stay out here very long. No offense, ma'am," Welsh added at a rather withering glance from Thatcher. 

"None taken, Lieutenant. We're all tired and we're all worried. But I agree. Not much else we can do tonight. Call me in the morning. Fraser's on his way back and there's no one better at tracking than he is. Maybe that'll help." 

"Yes, ma'am. I'll call in the a.m. Vecchio, go home. Get some rest. You'll need it." Welsh patted Ray on the arm in a rather fatherly manner. 

"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Inspector." He watched them walk away but couldn't quite bring himself to leave. 

After ten minutes wandering around and getting colder and colder, Ray gave up and went back to the Riv. He climbed in, started the engine and waited for the air to warm a bit. 

Over the engine noise, he yelled an anguished "DAMN IT!" and put his head down on the steering wheel. He was angry and frustrated and knew that losing Laura hurt a bit differently than he would have expected it to. After a few minutes, he put the car in gear and drove home. Thatcher and Welsh were right. He'd better get some sleep. He WAS going to need it. 

Benton Fraser barely made the plane. He'd taken the first taxi available, not even letting anyone else in front of him. And even though it was Sunday evening and therefore not heavy traffic, it seemed like the trip to the airport had taken forever. He was glad to have only carry-on luggage since he had about fifteen minutes from the time the taxi dropped him off to make the plane. It was on the last call as he sprinted to the gate (neatly missing two old ladies and a baby stroller on the way). 

He collapsed into his aisle seat and was glad to see that there was no one in the middle. The woman in the window ignored his "good evening" and this once, Ben was glad. He'd blocked out pretty much all thoughts except getting a flight and getting on it since Ray's call. 

He paid careful attention to the safety lecture, noted carefully the exit nearest him, and kept his seat in its upright position until the plane took off. Only once the plane was in the air did he let himself relax. He put the seat back a couple of notches, not wanting to impose too much on the person behind him, and let his mind wander into the tray table on the back of the seat in front of him. 

"Why would someone kidnap Laura?" was his first thought which led him to a picture of her. She was his friend but what kind of a friend he wasn't sure. He realized that he'd never really thought about it. She was there, she was a friend and he knew he'd step in front of a bullet for her, just as Ray had for him. But beyond that he'd never ventured. 

He was indebted to her for a lot of things, not the least of which was the computer classes he'd been taking in Ottawa. He'd never realized the incredible potential of the computer in police work until Laura had shown him the way. With his usual intensity, he'd thrown himself into learning the computer far beyond the boundaries of the classroom, staying up until 2 and 3 a.m. playing, searching, and learning the tool. That's why he was asleep when Ray called. He'd gone to sleep at 2 that morning and was up again at 7, working on the laptop Laura had insisted he take with him. 

The laptop thought triggered one he wished it hadn't: a picture of Victoria Metcalfe on a British Columbia driver's license on Laura's computer after he'd jostled the fish off the surface of the screen. That memory led to a realization that Laura was right when she said that he needed to face Victoria to really go on with his life and to ease the pain. He'd faced her and that had helped. He also knew that part of him would always belong to Victoria and that that part of him was dangerous. He sent it back to the recesses from which it had sprung. 

"Dad was right," he thought. "I didn't really know her. I wish Dad had known Laura; he'd have liked her." 

"But I do know her, son," came a familiar voice from across the aisle. Ben's head jerked around and he found his father sitting in the other aisle seat. "I don't really understand this death thing and I can't always control where I am, but I'm near you most of the time so of course, I've been near the woman quite a bit." 

"Dad, what are you doing here?" Ben closed his eyes, hoping his father's ghost would depart. 

"I told you, son, I can't always control it. Laura's a wonderful girl. Her eyes are the same green that your mother's were," Robert Fraser smiled to himself rather dreamily, and chuckled. "If I had a daughter, I'd want her to be just like Laura. She's a peach, son." 

Ben stared again at the tray table in its upright position. "She is. She's like the sister I never had. Drives you crazy sometimes when she's getting into places on the computer she shouldn't be but she's fun and she's kind and she always seems to understand." He smiled to himself briefly. 

"That's it, Dad. She's a good officer too." He looked over but his father's image was gone. He sighed deeply. 

"Who would have kidnapped her? It makes no sense," he thought. "Whoever it was definitely wanted her and not something she had. That's the only thing that makes sense with the closets. But why?" 

He glanced up at the flight attendant who was offering him a drink, and shook his head. The woman at the window seemed to be asleep. 

"Poor Dief," he thought. "I hope he's all right. He's been to the vet almost as often as I've been to the hospital." He smiled as a picture of the wolf came into his head. 

"Ray must be going crazy." He knew his friend well enough to know that Ray was blaming himself and second guessing everything he'd done. Ben wanted to know more details about what happened but it didn't sound like Ray had done anything to cause wrong. Laura was a trained officer and he'd seen her in action often enough to know she could take care of herself. "If it's possible," he thought, "she'll just hack her way out of wherever she is." Ben chuckled a bit and then sat straight up. 

"That's it," he said, not realizing that he'd said it out loud. The woman at the window stirred but didn't wake up. 

"What's it, son?" His father was back. 

"Computer hacking, Dad. Has to be. There isn't any other reason that someone would target Laura. She's a good police officer and a good Mountie, Dad." 

"Yes, she is, son. If your mother had been a Mountie, she'd have been like Laura." Bob Fraser nodded to his son. 

"Dad. Please! She's the best computer person on the force. It's the only thing that makes sense. If there's one thing I've learned from Laura, it's that computers can get you into places you aren't supposed to go. So someone must want in somewhere they're not supposed to be. Don't you see, Dad?" He looked across the aisle to his father who was chuckling at the antics of a small child in the seat in front of him. Ben couldn't tell whether the child could see the ghost. 

"What, son? Oh, computers. I'm afraid I don't know much about them. I've seen you and Laura, use them but I guess I'm too old, or too dead. I just don't get it." 

"Gee, Dad, you mean there is something that you can't teach me?" Ben couldn't keep a touch of sarcasm out of his voice. 

"Son, there are a lot of things I couldn't teach you that you've learned well yourself." Bob Fraser smiled at his astonished son. "Problem, Benton?" 

"No, Dad. Just surprised to hear that from you. So, you think I'm a good Mountie?" 

The ghost pulled himself up in the seat. "Son, don't you know that you're the best. You're my son, after all." 

Ben smiled. "Thanks, Dad." 

"Don't mention it, son. Oh, the plane's about to land. I'd better go. This up and down thing is tricky when you're dead. Go find her, son." He smiled at Ben and then, almost like a Cheshire Cat, disappeared. 

Ben checked his watch. The plane was still almost thirty minutes out of Chicago. He sat back again and let his mind drift. The announcement that they were about to land and to put seats in the upright position and replace tray tables jerked him awake. He struggled for a minute then complied with the voice's demands. 

They landed smoothly and Ben was at the curb in record time. There were no other people waiting for taxis and he took the first one in the queue. He remembered his first trip to Chicago and how he'd ended up walking into town after all the taxis went to others. He'd learned a lot since then and made a lot of friends. And one of them needed him at his best tomorrow. He paid the driver and climbed the stairs to his empty apartment. He was determined to get some rest which, of course, kept him up. 

He reached for his usual bedside reading, a book on candlemaking at the moment, but put it back unopened. He got up and went to his father's trunk. He pulled out an early diary and climbed back into bed. It was getting quite cold and the heat seemed to be out again. 

"She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her hair is a chestnut brown with curls and waves and her eyes are a deep green. Unfortunately, Buck saw her at the dance the same time I did. We both made fools of ourselves strutting around but by the end of the evening, she'd danced with me four times and Buck only twice. 

"Last night, I went by her house. Her father let her sit on the porch with her. We sat in the swing and talked for hours. The stars came out and the summer air was warm and soft. I held her hand. 

Ben went to the next date. 

"Today, I saw her again. She has a beautiful name but I think I forgot to mention it. Caroline Pinset. Her father's a cobbler. I ordered a pair of boots. Can't really afford them but it's the only excuse I have for going over there a lot. Caroline loves books so after her father measured my feet, we talked about Charles Dickens. Seems she's reading 'Great Expectations.' Since that's one of my favorites, we had quite the conversation. I do believe she likes me but I saw her talking with Buck later today." 

Ben smiled picturing his father young and falling in love and worrying about his good friend being his rival. He turned the page and a picture of his mother fell out. He barely remembered her but the picture brought her back to him quickly and painfully. She was so young. In the photo, she was smiling and the wind was blowing the curls around her face. She WAS beautiful, he thought. You could see the character in her eyes and her smile. 

He'd lost so many close to him but he'd survived. He wasn't going to lose Laura, he was sure of that. He yawned, put the picture of his mother back into the diary, closed it and turned off the light. His voice echoed through the apartment, "I won't lose you, Laura, I promise." 

He pulled up the blanket against the cold and fell fast asleep. 

Laura came to slowly. She first realized that her head hurt \-- a lot -- and then that she was lying down somewhere. She opened her eyes and looked around, which was painful, given the headache. She was in a room lit only by a single, naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling. 

She could see a window across the room. It was incredibly grimy but she could tell that it was dark outside. She'd been unconscious for awhile. She could also see a table, two chairs and a heater of some sort in the room but not much else. 

Laura slowly lifted her head, grimacing as the pain throbbed. She sat up and gently put her hand at the back of her head. As she'd suspected, there was a large welt there. 

She was sitting on an old, battered couch. She slowly swung her feet to the ground and then waited for the dizziness and nausea to pass. When it did, she took another look around the room. Two chairs, one table, one couch, a kerosene heater and herself were all the furnishings. There were two windows: one across from her and a smaller one above her head. And there were two doors. 

Laura stood up gingerly and again waited for the dizziness to pass. When it had, she quietly walked to the far door and tried the knob. Locked. She went to the window but it was so dirty and so dark outside that she really couldn't see anything. It was also not a window that opened. She looked back at the one over the couch. That one was a non-opening window too. 

"Must be an industrial area," she thought as she recognized that there were no street lamps outside. The room matched that conclusion too. It had the look of having been an office. 

She went to the door on her left and tried it. It moved. She carefully pushed open the door, in case there was anyone on the other side. 

As it turned out, the door led to a washroom: sink, toilet and cabinet. There was a single glass on the sink. There was a window above the toilet which had hinges on it. Before she got a chance to take a better look, she heard voices. 

Laura quickly closed the washroom door and sat back onto the couch as the other door opened up. Three men strolled into the room. Two were fairly young and dressed casually. "Younger," thought Laura, "than me. Late 20s, maybe early 30s." The third man was older and dressed in a business suit. One of the younger men carried a big grocery bag; the older man had a large briefcase. 

"Well, Ms. Harkness, you're awake, I see." The older man said with a smarmy smile. Laura disliked him instantly. "Very good. How do you feel?" 

"How do you think I feel?" Laura asked, looking him straight in the eye. "You hit me over the head and knocked me out." 

"Actually, to be perfectly accurate, it was not I who did that," the older man smiled again. "I believe the credit goes to Sean there." He pointed at the taller of the two younger men, the one wearing a plaid shirt. 

Laura decided not to comment. She had no idea why they'd grabbed her but it was obvious that they had targeted her specifically since they knew her name. 

"You hungry?" the older man asked. "I figured you would be since you've been out for almost three hours and that picnic with your friend, Detective Vecchio, was quite awhile ago." 

Laura decided that she not only didn't like the man, she positively loathed him. In the same instant she realized that she had to be very careful. They'd done a lot of homework. 

"I think I would be hungry if my head wasn't aching and I didn't feel nauseous," she commented just a little bitterly. 

"Ah, I thought of that, Ms. Harkness." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a bottle which he tossed to her. It was Tylenol. "There's water in the bathroom and a cup," he nodded towards the left door, and then moved towards the table to put down the briefcase. 

Laura got up, gingerly again, and went into the washroom. She took three pills and willed away some of the nausea. She needed to eat and keep up her strength if she had a hope of getting out of this. 

When she got back, the younger men were taking food out of the grocery bag. "Sorry we don't have anything as delicious as your picnic," the older man said. "Just McDonalds," he smiled again and pulled out the chair closest to the table. Laura went to it and sat down. She ate slowly, hoping that the food would stay with her. 

After they were done and the mess was cleared up, Laura started to stand up but felt a hand on her shoulder. The older man, who was leaning over the briefcase, had his hand on her. She shivered a bit but he didn't seem to notice. "I'm cold," she complained as evenly as she could. That was true although the shiver had come from the contact, not from the cold. 

"Well, it's no wonder. You're really not dressed for a Chicago Spring, Ms. Harkness." The older man reached into the briefcase and pulled out a striped shirt and handed to her. It wasn't particularly warm but Laura felt better once she'd added another layer to her cotton shirt. She wanted to point out that she had plenty of appropriate clothes at home and that she'd be happy to go get them but she resisted the urge and kept quiet. 

"Here we are," exclaimed the older man cheerfully. Laura wanted to hit him, but she resisted that urge too. He pulled a laptop computer out of the briefcase and put it on the table along with an electric plug, a mouse and a mouse pad. 

"At least I know why ME," Laura thought when she saw the equipment. The computer was a new model Power Book. 

"Would you do the honors, Ms. Harkness, as you're the computer expert here?" The older man stepped back with a flourish. 

Laura put the power brick into the plug and plugged it into the computer and then plugged in the mouse. When she had finished, she looked up at the older man who had watched carefully. What he thought she could do by merely plugging in the machinery, she had no idea, but she realized that the fact that he was watching suspiciously meant that he didn't know much about computers. She smiled to herself and started to feel a bit better about the situation. 

"You're probably wondering what we want from you, aren't you, Ms. Harkness." The younger men were sitting on the couch watching. Laura didn't say anything but she watched the older man carefully. 

"Tell her, Ralph. Enough dithering around," the younger man in plaid got up impatiently. 

"Calm down, Sean. Now, Ms. Harkness, we know that you're a computer whiz and we need your expertise both in that area and as a police officer." He paused to see if he'd get a reaction from her, but Laura simply kept looking at him. 

"We want you to change some records for us. 

"Specifically, we want you to get into the records at Joliet and change the release dates on two prisoners." 

At that, Laura's eyebrows raised slightly and her eyes widened. She pulled herself back and, after looking at all three men, asked "What makes you think I can do that?" 

"We know you can. We know that you're, oh what do they call them, a hacker, I think it is. We know that you found a certain Victoria Metcalfe by accessing a lot of records that wouldn't normally be available." The older man smiled broadly as Laura's mouth dropped. 

"How the . . . ? How do you know that?" Laura blurted out. 

"Let's just say that we met the lady in question's cousin and he'd been talking with a local prosecutor about it." He smiled again. 

Laura mentally made a note to find out which prosecutor and to kill him when. . . if, she corrected herself, she got out of here. 

"Even if I could find the prison records, don't you think someone might notice if release dates suddenly changed?" She asked. 

"We have it on good authority that a list prints out every day and that one of the secretaries simply passes it on. We don't think anyone will notice, no." The man turned then to the younger pair, "Right, boys?" 

"That's right. It's just routine," Sean, in the plaid shirt, smiled at her. 

She decided to take the initiative. "So, who's dates do you want changed?" 

"That's the spirit," said the older man. She looked him in the eye as neutrally as she could. "Two men. Name of Donnelley. James and Cameron." 

Laura searched her memory. The names sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't place them. 

"Do you know when they went in? What their numbers are? Anything?" She asked as she tried to think of as many ways as possible to slow down the search. 

"They went in about March of '95. Don't know the numbers. Do you need them?" Sean was standing next to her. She didn't like him, either, 

"Not necessarily. I don't know what I need yet." She looked up at him. Her head felt better finally. 

"Don't think you can send secret messages to your friends," the older man said, leaning close to her face. She couldn't imagine just off hand exactly what she'd tell them -- I'm being held captive by three men in a room in what may be an old warehouse somewhere without street lights. That wouldn't get them very far. 

"We're going to watch every key you type in," Sean smiled at her rather viciously, and settled into the second chair inches from her right arm. 

She looked at him and then up at the older man. "Could you at least sit on the left," she asked finally, "since the mouse is on the right?" She looked Sean in the eye. 

"Sure, no problem." He moved the chair. 

"Okay, boys, I'm out of here." The older man was closing the briefcase. "See you later." He turned and left the room. 

Sean leaned towards her. "Go ahead, Harkness. Do your thing," he ordered.. 

Laura started working her way through the computer, familiarizing herself with what was on it. It had a 28,800 internal modem and lots of memory. It also came with Netscape Navigator and what was apparently a local Internet Service Provider. She changed the modem speed to 9600 baud. "That'll slow things down," she thought. She could see out of the corner of her eye that Sean was watching but she could also see that he had no idea what she was doing. 

She then went through and silenced all of the computer's noises. That way, if she did get a chance to get a message out, possibly if Sean and the other one fell asleep, the sounds wouldn't give her away. Then she just moved through each of the computer's programs as slowly as she could. Sean was still watching but she could tell he was starting to get bored. 

After a couple of hours, she stopped. Sean was still watching but he looked tired. 

"I need to stop. I'm so tired that I can't think and if I can't think, I can't do this." She knew that they couldn't tell whether that was true or not and that was her advantage. She intended to use it to the fullest. 

"You sure?" Sean asked suspiciously. 

"I'm sure. Look, it's been kind of a rough day. I was running around all afternoon, as you apparently know, and then you hit me on the head. I'm tired; I need some rest. Now!" Laura kept his eye. 

"What do you think, Pat?" Sean asked the other man. He glanced up from a magazine he was reading and shrugged his shoulders. 

"Okay, we can call it a day," Sean told her. 

"And one other thing," she added, a bit boldly. 

"Yeah?" 

"I need light. That bulb won't do it. I can hardly see the screen. I need a desk lamp. Before I start again." She made sure he understood that it was an order, not a request. 

"I'll find one," he said. "Pat, open up that sofa." 

Pat got up and stretched and pulled open the sleeper that was in the sofa. Laura hadn't realized it was a bed. 

"I'm sleeping in here with you. Don't want no funny business," Sean said sternly. "Pat'll be right outside." 

Laura saw that the bed and pillows and a couple of blankets, which she was grateful for since it was getting colder in the room. The kerosene heater wasn't really keeping up with the cold. She got up and stretched, then went into the bathroom and took two more pills. She sat on the edge of the bed and took off her shoes. She was a bit worried about Sean's intentions but she knew that they needed her so she felt pretty safe. 

She laid down and pulled the covers up over her. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. 

About seven-thirty the next morning, Ray parked the Riv on the street outside Fraser's apartment, an act that always caused him tremendous worry. It was bad enough that Benny lived here but to have to risk the loss or damage of his car too, was really a lot to ask. As usual, Ray sighed and said a silent little prayer as he locked the doors. 

He bounded up the stairs, having long ago given up on the elevator which he saw as simply a death trap. He knocked on Ben's door and heard an immediate "Come in, Ray." 

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked as he went through the door. Ben was sitting eating breakfast already fully dressed. 

"Who else would run up the stairs and knock on my door, Ray?" Ben responded once he finished chewing the bit of omelette in his mouth. 

Ray pulled out a chair and sat down. It took him about 20 minutes to summarize the previous day's events. Ben said little but listened carefully. When Ray finished, Ben sat thoughtfully then got up and washed his dishes. Ray sipped on the tea that Ben had made him. It didn't beat coffee but it was better than nothing. 

"Did the old man find any matching pictures?" Ben asked finally, wiping his hands. 

"No. Nothing. Which, given his state of inebriation, isn't totally surprising." Ray had already called in to ask the same question. "His descriptions weren't very helpful either. The artist apparently finally gave up getting anything even remotely coherent out of him. And I talked with Huey. The apartment had no prints and no other clues that he could find. So I went over there myself before I came here but I didn't have any luck either." 

"So, we start the day with . . . " Ben hesitated thoughtfully, "Laura missing, probably kidnapped judging from the apartment, taken by two young-ish men of no particular description for no discernible reason." He sighed as Ray nodded. 

"What about Dief?" he asked finally. 

"We can get him any time. I figured you'd want to come." Ray got up and put his cup in the sink. Ben picked it up, washed it and dried it. 

"I'll get my coat," Ben said as he headed towards the closet. 

"You'll need it. It's getting colder by the minute." Ray paused, trying to decide whether to mention Laura's lack of warm clothes. 

"What is it, Ray?" Ben asked as he put on the coat. 

"Laura was wearing a cotton blouse. If she's outside, well, I think you can fill in the rest." Ray was very worried although he was trying not to show it. 

"These men went after her specifically, Ray. It's unlikely that they did so to leave her somewhere to freeze to death. Therefore, I think we have to assume that wherever she is, she's being taken care of. At least for now." 

"That's the at least that worries me, Benny. Since we don't know who took her or why, we don't know how long we have until they have or have done . . ." Ray shuttered at bit at his own words, "whatever . . ." 

"Ready, Ray?" Ben was standing at the door. Ray grabbed his own coat and gloves and they headed out. 

They picked up Dief who looked none the worse for wear and who was deliriously glad to see them. From the vet hospital, they went to the park. Ben wanted to see the scene for himself. Ray walked him through what had happened and where but Ben found nothing new. 

At the station house, they ran into Lt. Welsh. 

"Anything new, Vecchio?" he asked. 

"Nothing, sir. We're going to start working the snitches, though. Maybe someone will know something. Not all that common for a police officer to be kidnapped, even if she is a Canadian one." 

"Good thought, Vecchio. But may I make a small suggestion?" Welsh was looking at Fraser. 

"Yes, sir. What would that be?" Ray asked. 

"Get the Mountie out of uniform." Welsh shook his head and walked away. 

"He's right, Benny. We go out on the street; you'd better change." Ray grinned, remembering the first time he and Ben went into a bar full of hard-core Chicago bad guys. They'd almost been killed but it had been interesting. 

"Let me call the Inspector and then we can go drop Dief at the apartment and I'll change." Ben headed towards Ray's desk and the phone. 

An hour later, with Ben in jeans and a leather jacket, they headed out. 

All day, they hunted up Ray's sources of information. They talked to his regular snitches. They talked to parolees. They talked to former cops. They talked to current cops. They interviewed former bank robbers and petty thieves. They tracked down forgers and numbers runners. No one had heard anything about a woman being kidnapped, much less a female Mountie. 

Ray was completely depressed. He and Ben sat in the Patrician Grill picking at french fries left over from a very greasy dinner. His stomach hurt and his legs ached. He put his head in his hands and leaned on his elbows on the table. 

"I don't get it, Benny. She couldn't have just vanished. Someone took her. I'm sure of it. But whoever it is is sure keeping it quiet." He moaned. 

Ben watched his friend sympathetically. "Ray, are you sure there isn't anyone else." 

"Benny," said Ray, looking up with his hands now on his chin, "if there was, we'd be there right now shaking him down. A clue, Benny, that's all I'm asking for. Give you a clue and you can dig a guppy out of a snowbank. But we don't have a god damned thing." He put his head down again. 

When he looked up, Ben was staring off into space. If he hadn't known the Mountie so well, he might have wondered if Ben was really concerned. But the exhaustion around Ben's eyes and the clouds in them told Ray that Ben was just as worried as he was. 

"How could she just vanish?" Ray asked himself again and for at least the twentieth time that day. "Someone somewhere had to see something. This is a big city but it's a small town out there." He leaned back in the booth as the waiter brought the check. 

"Hey, fellas, where's your girlfriend?" the waiter asked with a smile. When they didn't answer, he added, "You know, the girl Mountie, Lori or whatever her name is. She's usually with you two." 

"It's Laura, and to tell you the truth," Ben said with a deep sigh, "that's exactly what we're trying to figure out." 

"Uh oh. If I see her, should I have her call you," the waiter asked. He was trying to be helpful, thought Ray, but this is not the time. 

"Yeah, you do that. Have her call us. Benny, can we go?" Ray's patience, along with most of his energy, was gone. It was eight-thirty at night and they weren't any closer to finding Laura than they had been 24 hours ago. 

"Well, at least we know where she isn't," Ben said hopefully as he paid for the dinner. He was short, as usual, so Ray paid the tip. 

"And we know who doesn't know where she is," Ben continued as they went outside. It was very, very cold, the famous Chicago wind was starting to blow, and it looked like it might snow. 

"Yeah, great. Thanks, Pollyanna, but that doesn't help much." Ray was in no mood for optimism. 

"Well, Ray, yes, actually it does. Sometimes you have to eliminate a lot of possibilities and narrow down the scope of the search before you can find what you're looking for." They were almost to the Riv. 

"Okay, okay. I know, you're the expert tracker. So track." Ray stopped as they got to the car. He looked at Ben, and pleaded, "Find her, Ben. If anyone can, you can." 

Ben nodded. "We will, Ray. We will." He actually sounded optimistic which cheered Ray up a bit. 

He dropped Ben off at home and then drove back to the Mayor's Park. He parked and walked through the field one more time, remembering the picnic with Dief running wildly through the grass and Laura grabbing him and waltzing madly without music. He pictured her hair in the sun and the mischief in her eyes. He heard her laugh. 

It was too painful. The park was closed so the only ones who heard his anguished yell were the homeless in hiding in the bushes and the squirrels, who all watched as he slowly went back to the car and drove off. 

Laura had awoken that morning fairly early. But she didn't move. She had decided that she needed to stall as much as possible to give Benny and Ray a chance to find her. She had no idea how well she was hidden, but the more time she could buy, the more likely they'd dig her out. So she didn't stir until the one called Pat shook her shoulder about an hour after she'd actually woken up. 

She'd spent that hour mentally running through files that she knew might look like ones that would provide the information these guys were looking for but which, in fact, wouldn't. She'd formed quite a list by the time they forced her up. 

She yawned and stretched and then said, "Mind if I wash up before breakfast?" 

Pat said that was fine so she put on her shoes (as it was cold on the floor) and went into the washroom. Once there, she closed the door (which had a lock on the inside which she immediately used), and turned on the hot water to get it going. Under the cover of the noise from the water, she climbed onto the toilet and worked at the window latch until it finally gave with a rather loud crack. She held her breath and waited but there was no inquiring voice from the other side of the door. 

Standing on the tank, Laura determined that she could barely squeeze through the window. She could see a fire escape one floor down and over by one set of windows. It wasn't going to be easy to get to but she decided she'd rather take her chances with that than with her captors. She was absolutely sure that once they had what they wanted, she'd be expendable. 

She closed the window, climbed down from the toilet and washed up. Then she unlocked the door and went into the other room. 

Sean was coming in with coffee, orange juice and croissants as Laura came out. She ate slowly, again taking as much time as she dared. Finally, she turned to the computer, turned it on and let it fire up. Pat sat down next to her. 

"Don't forget, I'm watching," he said ominously. 

"You're a bit hard to miss," she said sarcastically. Pat was even bigger than Sean. "Where's my lamp? I told you guys I need light here." 

"Sean's getting it, aren't you, Sean?" The other man nodded with a mouthful of food. "You can get started without it. You managed yesterday." 

"It wasn't easy and it's hurting my eyes," Laura glared at him. She knew that for the time being, she was safe since she was valuable to them. 

She spent the morning wandering around law enforcement files. Every time she got close to something that looked like it might have access to Joliet, she veered off. Her luck held and Pat didn't notice the deception. 

At noon, Sean came in with food and a lamp. After they'd eaten, he sat down and Pat went out. Babysitting didn't appeal to either of them, apparently. 

The afternoon went as well as the morning, although she could feel Sean getting impatient. At one point she stopped and looked him in the eye. "It isn't always easy to find the right file, you know. Or rather, you don't know. Back off." 

Sean was taken aback by her directness and started to say something. She could tell she'd gotten to him but he bit back whatever it was. 

"Just get on with it," he said grumpily. 

When Pat came back around five-thirty, Laura saw her chance. Sean got up to say hello and help Pat with some bags of food he'd brought in. Laura moved quickly into an e-mail program and, as fast as she could, typed a short, cryptic message and programmed it to go out at ten that night. Before Sean was back in the chair, the program was off the screen and a file listing Prison Officials in the United States was back up. 

After they ate, she asked for a break. Her neck was hurting from the bad level of the keyboard and her head had started to ache too. 

"Okay," said Pat, "but not too long. We want this information \-- soon." 

She walked around the room a bit and stretched and then went back into the washroom. The window was closed but not latched, just as she'd left it. She could feel the cold in the room and knew that would be a problem but not as much of a problem as staying there was likely to be. 

It was almost ten o'clock when she stumbled onto Joliet's computer. She was quite tired and didn't see it until too late. Unfortunately, Sean, who was in the chair, did. 

"There it is," he yelled, jumping up. Pat, who was reading and dozing on the couch, stood up and came over. 

"That's only the first step," Laura protested. "Finding the computer is one thing; figuring out how to get into it is a totally different project." 

"Well, get going then." Sean demanded. 

"I'm exhausted. I need to be rested and creative to figure out the password. We've found the file; can't we wait until tomorrow to start the next step?" Laura moaned. She really was very tired. 

"No. Enough time's been wasted. You start now and we'll work all night if that's what it takes." 

Laura groaned. "Can I at least take a washroom break? A clean face, among other things, would help." 

Sean glared at her but then said, "Okay but don't take too long." 

Laura nodded and went into the washroom. She locked the door, turned on the water, and climbed onto the toilet tank. She pushed the window open, climbed out and knew immediately caught her breath. The fire escape looked even farther away in the dark, and was off to the side besides. And it was metal and likely to be frozen. But she didn't have much choice so she climbed out and lowered her legs down against the wall as she held onto the window sill. 

*If I get out of here, I'm signing up for weights,* she thought ruefully as she tried to hold on while swingly gently. 

She finally took a deep breath and kicked off the wall. She barely grabbed the rails of the fire escape. She climbed over it and stood there for a moment trying to catch her breath and to get her heart to stop racing. Then she headed down the stairs as fast as she could go. It was bitterly cold and she knew she had to find shelter and fast. She hit the ground running. 

By the time her captors broke the door down and figured out what had happened, she was five blocks away and still running. 

She'd completely lost track of time and it was too dark to read her watch. The only thing she felt was the cold, bitter and biting, clawing at her body and her consciousness. 

She'd been running for what seemed like forever and she was still in a maze of old, empty warehouses. This may have been a busy area at one time but every one of the buildings was now abandoned. She hadn't found an open door or even a broken window to climb through and she knew the cold was getting to her. 

She finally found a doorway that was more recessed than the others. She thought she was probably safe from Sean and Pat as she hadn't seen or heard anyone else since she'd hit the ground. It was the cold that scared her and she was so tired that she could hardly move. So when she found this particular doorway she went as far back into it as she could. She'd found a newspaper, dated 1981, and covered herself with that as a shield against the cold. It wasn't enough but it was all she had. 

It was so very cold. She felt herself getting sleepy but there just wasn't anything she could do about it. *If I die,* she thought, *at least it'll be easy and painless.* She fought the sleep by singing every song she could think of until she just couldn't think of any others. The darkness slipped over her and she slowly slid away with it. 

The cell phone woke Ray. He glanced, bleary-eyed, at the clock by his bed. It was 6:02 a.m. He grabbed the phone off the table and flipped it open. 

"Yeah?" he said. 

"Ray, this is Elaine." 

Ray blinked and tried to collect his thoughts. "Elaine, do you know what time it is?" 

"Yes, Ray. Look, I couldn't sleep so I came in early. First thing I did was check my e-mail. There's a message here that I think came from Laura." Elaine sounded exicted but restrained. 

Ray sat up, suddenly fully awake. "What does it say?" 

"All is says is: Warehouse. 555-7313. LH" 

"Have you traced the number?" 

"Not yet, Ray. I called the phone company but we're having trouble getting through to someone. I'm still working on it, though." Elaine sounded a bit frustrated. 

"I'll be there as fast as I can." Ray threw the phone down and jumped out of bed. After a quick shower, he was in the Riv, heading for Fraser's. It took about 15 minutes to get there. 

He bounded up the stairs again, this time knocking only once before he opened the door. Benny was still in bed but awake and waiting. 

"What is it, Ray?" 

"Elaine's got a message she thinks is from Laura." Ben was out of bed and changing in the closet before Ray finished the sentence. 

"Let's go," he said emerging, this time in civilian clothes. 

Ray gave him the message as they drove. They got to the precinct and to Elaine's desk in record time. 

"That was quick," she said, a bit surprised. 

"Any luck on the number?" 

"No, Ray, not yet. But at least we've got someone working on it." 

Ben stepped in. "May I see the message, Elaine?" 

"Sure," she said, moving aside. 

Ben sat down, grateful for the class he'd been taking. He got the routing information on the message and then scrolled through it. 

"Here's the provider's name, Elaine. See if you can get anything through them." He pointed to the screen and stood up. 

"Great, I'll get right on it." Elaine sat down and grabbed the phone. 

"Vecchio!" came a call from across the room. "Got the phone company on the line for you." Sgt. Cassiday was holding out a phone. 

Ray took the phone. 

"Yeah." 

Then, "Are you sure?" 

"Any possibility that someone's using it without your knowledge?" 

"Could you check on it? Yeah, I'll hold." 

Ben was standing next to him. 

Ray put his hand over the mouthpiece. "Phone company says the number was disconnected over a year ago. They're trying to check on it," he said. Ben nodded. 

"Yeah? It's live? Can you trace the location? How long? Make it faster. Official police business. NOW! Call me back." Ray hung up. 

"They're looking but they think it'll take several hours to track it down. 

They went back to Elaine's desk. She was on the phone to someone. 

"Wow. That's a great rate. But what's your down time?" Elaine was saying. 

"ELAINE," Ray practically screeched. 

"Sorry. I got carried away. He says he's tracking that account but there seems to be some problem. I can't tell exactly what. I think part of it is that he's half asleep." 

"Well, tell him it's urgent and wake him up!" Ray demanded. 

"I DID, Ray. He's checking." She looked back to the screen. "What? Oh, okay but this may be life and death so get back to me as fast as you can." She hung up the phone. 

"He says he can concentrate better without me breathing down his neck, so to speak." Elained looked up at Ray. 

"I'll breath down more than his neck if he doesn't . . ." Ray fumed. 

"Ray, calm down. They're working on it. I know it's frustrating but there really isn't anything we can do yet." Ben put his hand on his friend's arm. Ray glared at him but then looked away, resigned. 

"Elaine, we're going to get something to eat. We'll take the cell phone. Call us the second you have anything. And can we bring you something?" Ben smiled at Elaine who smiled back and then glared briefly at Ray. 

"Just a coffee and a muffin or something. Thanks, Fraser." 

"No problem. Come on, Ray," Ben started towards the door. Ray didn't have much choice but to follow him. 

Three-quarters of an hour later, fed and full of coffee, Ray felt better but restless. He and Ben headed back towards the precinct. It was almost eight o'clock. The message had been sent ten hours earlier. 

The phone rang. 

"Yeah?" Ray answered almost before the flip top was open. He started walking faster. Ben pulled out paper and pen from a pocket. 

"413 South Lincoln Street. Old warehouse. Empty. There's nothing out there, Elaine. Are you sure that's the right address? Okay." Ray closed the phone and looked at Ben. 

"Got it," he said as they both ran for the Riv. As they drove, Ray called for backup so by the time they got there, there were five police cars nearby. 

They parked and got out. Ray pulled his gun and they told the other police they'd go first and to follow. 

"Elaine doesn't know what floor," Ray told them. "So we'll have to start at the bottom and work our way up. Keep all the ground exits covered." Police scattered to all sides of the building. 

They went as methodically and as quietly as they could. They saw nothing until they got to the sixth floor. Ben tapped Ray on the shoulder and pointed to a room that had light coming from under the door. Ray nodded. 

They kicked through the door and yelled, "Police!" but found that the room was empty, except for a computer, two chairs, a table, a kerosene heater and a couch. 

Five other cops came through the door. Ben sat down at the computer and, without touching anything, carefully checked the screen. 

"This is definitely where she was, Ray. The phone connection's down but the file that's up is for Joliet Prison." Ben said, looking over at Ray. Ray stepped behind him and peered at the screen. 

"Looks like Laura got them where they wanted to be," Ben said carefully. "But, not inside. Whatever they wanted out of this file didn't happen. See how it's just the first screen?" 

Ray squinted at the screen. He couldn't tell much from it except that it did say Joliet Prison. He trusted Fraser, however, and assumed that was right. 

"So, where is she? Where are they? Who are they?" Ray asked in frustration. 

"I don't know, Ray, but she got away from them somehow before she got them the information they wanted. They're probably trying to find her." Ben got up. 

They went downstairs. Ray gathered all the cops together so they could plan an organized search. He saw Ben, out of the corner of his eye, talking on one of the police phones. He figured Ben was probably updating Thatcher. 

They spread out. For two hours, they prowled among the abandoned warehouses but found no one. Finally, the cell phone rang. This time it was Sgt. Cassiday who had stayed behind to watch the warehouse with the computer. 

"Vecchio. We've got them. They came back and we nailed them before they got inside." Sgt. Cassiday said 

"Is she with them?" Ray asked anxiously. 

"Negative. They claim that they don't know where she is either." Cassiday sounded concerned. 

"Damn!" Ray exploded. Ben raised an inquiring eyebrow. "They got the guys but Laura's not with them." 

"Actually, Ray, I think that's a good sign." Ben said calmly. 

"Why? Maybe they killed her." Ray challenged. 

"I don't think so, Ray. If they'd killed her, they probably wouldn't have come back. Further, it's very unlikely they would have killed her. She hadn't accessed the information they wanted and they had no way of knowing that she'd sent out a message." Ben continued. 

"Assuming that they have been searching the area and that they, like us, have not turned her up, she must be somewhere and she's probably safe," he added. 

"How do you figure that?" Ray looked astonished. 

"If she was dead, in a doorway, for example, one of us would have found her. We've looked everywhere without luck. Therefore, she's not in a doorway. And if she's indoors somewhere, she's more likely to have survived the cold." Ben concluded, Ray thought rather too smugly. 

"You may have a point," he conceded. 

"The problem is, how can we let her know it's safe to come out. She doesn't know this area so she is likely unsure where she is and how to get out. Perhaps some officers could call through bullhorns while driving around to alert her." Ben was thinking. 

"What if that doesn't work?" asked Ray. 

"I don't know, Ray. Let's try it first." Ben finally looked worried. 

So for the rest of the afternoon, he and Ben drove through the area, calling out on bullhorns to Laura that she was safe. They figured that she was more likely to trust familiar voices. But she didn't show. 

They finally gave up. It was getting later and darker and colder and they simply didn't know what else to do. So, they left some cars to patrol the area and went back to the precinct. 

Ray checked in on the men who had been picked up. They turned out to be cousins of James and Cameron Donnelley but they got a lawyer and refused to answer any questions beyond that. 

*Another frustrating day,* thought Ray as he dropped Ben off at home and turned the Riv towards his house. "Laura, wherever you are . . ." he began, but his voice failed him and he finally sighed deeply and drove home. 

Two days later, Ray and Ben headed out of the precinct to supervise the investigation into a routine robbery. Normally, Lt. Welsh wouldn't have bothered sending a detective, much less a detective with a Mountie, to the scene of this sort of a crime, but Ray was driving him and everyone else in the office crazy. Ray was very well aware that he was alternating between depression and anger but the waiting and the frustration were taking their toll. 

Ben seemed as calm as usual. Ray suspected that there was a place far inside where Ben was as frustrated and angry as he was but that place was well protected and never seen in public. 

There was no news on Laura. The lab had confirmed that she'd been in the warehouse; her fingerprints were everywhere. That was it. A complete dead end. Ray had gone back to all of his sources: snitches, police officers, former crooks but no one knew anything. 

"Patience, Ray. No news is, to some degree, good news. No news means they haven't found a body and there's absolutely no evidence that Laura has come to an untimely end," Benny was saying. Ray resisted the temptation to deck him since he knew that Benny was right, as far as it went. But he wanted something positive -- not just a void. 

They had interviewed the victim and the witnesses and had supervised the patrol officers at the scene and were heading back to the Riv. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon. Ray's cell phone rang. 

"Yeah," he answered. 

"Raymondo. Always a pleasure to talk to you," said the voice on the other end. He couldn't quite place it. 

"Who is this?" he asked confrontationally. He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked over at Benny who was waving his arms. Ray shrugged him off. 

"It's me, your old friend Frank Zuko," the altogether too cheerful voice identified itself. 

"Zuko!" said Ray. He felt Benny tugging on his sleeve again. He looked over at Benny with a glare. 

"I think this call is for me, Ray," said Ben with his hand out to take the phone. 

"Just a minute, Zuko," Ray said into the phone and then turned to Ben. They'd both stopped walking. "What do you mean, for you?" 

"I think Mr. Zuko is calling for me, Ray." Ben seemed very calm. 

"Frankie, how did you get this number?" Ray asked into the phone. 

"Your friend the Mountie gave it to me. Said I could call him any time. Said he'd be with you. He there?" Zuko sounded cocky. 

"Yeah, he's here. Just a minute." Ray glared at Ben again. "You gave Frank Zuko my cell phone number?" He tried not to sound as angry as he felt. 

"Yes, Ray, it was the only way to assure that he could reach us at the earliest possible moment." Ben explained. 

"Reach us? Why?" 

"Could I take the call, please Ray, and I'll explain." Ben reached for the phone again. 

"Sure, Benny. You can give my personal cell phone number to known gangsters who have it in for me any time. No problem." He practically threw the phone at Benny. 

"Thank you, Ray," Ben responded grimly. 

"Yes, Mr. Zuko. Fine, thank you kindly." Ben said and then paused, listening. 

"Yes, very good. Hold on a moment," Ben put his hand over the mouthpiece. He turned to Ray. 

"Ray, do you have a pencil and paper?" 

"Sure, why?" 

"I need you to write an address down." Ben took his hand off the mouthpiece. "Okay, Mr. Zuko, go ahead. Yes, that's 2455 Warren Harding Boulevard," Ben looked at Ray and nodded. Ray wrote the address down. "Precisely at five o'clock. Yes, Mr. Zuko. The car? Yes, we appreciate that. How will we know the guide? Oh, blue Chevy Camaro, yes, license number," Ben hesitated and nodded at Ray again, "Okay, RCW 139, got it. Thank you Mr. Zuko, I really appreciate your help." Ben closed the flip phone. 

"What was that about?" Ray asked impatiently. 

"Ray, do you remember the day we went into the warehouse?" Ray nodded. "And no one was there?" Ray nodded again. "And you were briefing the officers to start a search while I made some calls on one of the police phones?" Ray nodded again but the truth was beginning to dawn on him. 

"I thought you were calling Thatcher to fill her in," he said. 

"I was, Ray. But I also called Frank Zuko. He owed me a favor and I figured this was a good time to call it in. So I asked him to see if he could find Laura. And he has." Ben smiled, for the first time in a long time. Ray's mouth dropped open. 

"Where?" 

"Well, we have to go to that address and get into that car and our 'guide' -- that's the word he used, Ray, and he was quite deliberate about it -- will take us there. He said we'll be blindfolded but not to worry as she is safe and the people taking care of her are strange but harmless." 

Ray blinked at Benny. "Are you crazy? Park the Riv in that awful neighborhood, get into a strange car with someone Frank Zuko knows to go to a place full of strange, harmless people? You've got to be kidding. How do we know this isn't some sort of a set up?" 

"Ray, it's all we have. Zuko owes me. In his own way, he's honorably repaying a debt. We've tried everything else and we can't find her. We have no where else to go." Ben was very calm but there was a definite urgency in his voice, Ray acknowledged, reluctantly, that he was right. 

He took a deep breath. "Okay, Benny, but I sure hope this isn't a trap of some sort." 

"It isn't, Ray." 

At five o'clock, they pulled up to the address that Zuko had given them. "You're sure that Zuko said he'll personally guarantee that my car will be okay here." 

"Yes, Ray, he personally guaranteed it." 

"I don't like this." Ray said, looking around suspiciously. 

"I don't either, Ray, but we really don't have much choice." Ben said. 

A car pulled up. It was a blue Chevy Camaro with the right license plate. Ray and Ben got out of the car. 

A tall, thin man stepped out of the Chevy and motioned them over. 

"Mark Todd," he said and put out his hand to shake. After they'd both shaken it, he continued. "I'm sorry about the blindfolds but the place we're going prefers to remain a sanctuary and hidden." 

Ray gave Benny a very skeptical, wide-eyed glance as the man went on. 

"It'll take about 20 minutes to get there. If you would please turn around . . ." Ben and Ray obliged and the man blindfolded them and helped them into the car. 

About twenty minutes later, the car stopped. Todd helped Ray and then Ben out of the car and took off the blindfolds. They were in another abandoned industrial area, but Ray couldn't say where it was. 

"That door," said Todd, pointing across the street. The building looked just as abandoned as the others but Ray could see just a bit of steam or smoke coming from the far side of it. 

"Thank you kindly," said Ben, and shook Todd's hand. Ray nodded and started across the street. 

There was a man standing in the doorway, apparently waiting for them. He was dressed in a long coat but was holding some kind of a tall stick. He didn't say anything but opened the doors for them. 

Inside they found themselves in some kind of an ante room. It was about ten feet square and there was a set of double doors on the far side of it. Two men stood in front of those doors. They were dressed in what looked to Ray like short pants with tights. He started to say something but since these men were also holding tall sticks, and since these had metal points on the ends of them, he kept quiet. 

"Good evening, gentlemen," said one of the men. "We are told that you come on a quest seeking a lady." 

Ben stepped up. "Yes, we do." He stopped as the man waved a hand at him. 

"No weapons of any kind allowed inside. Please remove any you have from your garments and give them to me. They will be carefully protected and returned to you when you leave." 

"No way." Ray said flatly. "No way am I giving up my weapons to you." 

"Ray," Ben said urgently, grabbing Ray by the shoulders. "He says no one has weapons. This isn't the time to argue. Give them to him." Ray had rarely received such a stern lecture from his friend. He was quite taken aback. So he took the gun out of his shoulder holster and handed to the men. Ben gave them his knife and then pointed at Ray's ankle. Ray reluctantly gave them that gun too. 

Thus disarmed, they faced the double doors. 

"I will announce you," said the second man with something of a flourish. 

They opened the doors and both Ray and Ben's mouths dropped. It was nothing they had ever seen before nor imagined to see, especially in an old warehouse in Chicago. 

What Ray saw first was a riot of color. It took a moment to realize that it was the clothes. At least 100 people occupied the large room, all of them dressed in lively shades of green, red, yellow, blue and other bright colors. The clothes were made from brocades, wools, satins and other rich materials. 

Ben leaned over, "No wonder Zuko's guide said to tell me to wear my dress uniform," he whispered. 

Ray nodded. Ben's red serge fit in far more than his earth-toned Armani suit. 

He leaned back to Ben. "Who ARE these people?" he asked in amazement. 

"I don't know, Ray, but they certainly are well-clothed and, from the look of them, well cared for." 

The announcer stepped in front of them an an aisle through the middle of the room opened up. "Good Sir Knights, follow me." 

Ben whispered again, "It looks like a medieval village." Ray could only nod in mute agreement. 

The room was quite large, probably originally some kind of a warehouse. There were heaters, both electric and kerosene, scattered around the room which was nicely warm. Directly in front of them was a floor raised two feet above the level of the floor they were on. There were two large chairs on it, one of them turned around and the other facing them. 

The announcer started walking towards the raised floor. Ben and Ray followed. Ray realized that there were several groups of people, both men and women, sewing garments. The materials they were using were scattered on the floor. It looked like old curtains, old clothes and just partial bolts of materials. He wondered where they'd gotten the cloth. 

Other groups were repairing shoes, working on furniture, and other projects that Ray couldn't quite identify. He could smell food coming from somewhere but it wasn't from that room. 

As they approached the raised floor, a man standing next to the chair that was turned around leaned over. From the turned chair, a man rose. Men on either side of him quickly turned the chair around as he turned to face his guests. 

He was about their age, maybe a bit older. Tall, straight-shouldered and fair, with dark blonde hair and hazel eyes. 

*This guy must be in charge,* Ray thought. *He has that look of authority.* 

As they reached the raised floor, the man sat back into the chair, now facing them. Ben stopped and then bowed deeply. Ray looked at him in astonishment but when Ben pulled on Ray's arm and gave him an intense pleading kind of look, Ray bowed too. 

"I think I should handle this, Ray," whispered Ben. Ray nodded, grateful to pass that job to his friend as he had no idea what to say or do. 

Before Ben could speak, the man in the chair introduced himself. "I am King John," he said. Ray's eyes widened. "Welcome to our Village." 

Ben responded, "Thank you, Your Majesty. May I introduce myself and my companion? I am Sir Benton Fraser, and this is Sir Raymond Vecchio. We are Knights Errant who have come in search of a lady." 

"So I am told," King John responded. "Would you be so kind as to describe her, good Sir Knight." 

"Yes, Your Majesty. Her name is the Lady Laura. She is not young, yet not old. She is middling tall and has blonde hair and green eyes that flash when she is amused." 

The King smiled knowingly and nodded. "Yes, you have described her well. She has been with us only a few days. And she did mention that two knights would come seeking her. But I must warn you, good Knights, that I do not part with her easily nor quickly. I must consult her to be sure that you are the knights she expects. And you must join us for a farewell feast and spend the night. If she chooses to go with you, it can be done tomorrow." 

Ben bowed again. "Yes, Your Majesty. We understand." He kicked Ray in the leg just as Ray's mouth opened to object. Ray closed it. 

The King stood. He turned to the two men flanking him. "Show these good knights around the Village and tend to their needs." The two men nodded and came down the stairs to the side of the raised floor towards Ben and Ray. "I must needs consult with my lady. We will join you again at the feast." 

Ray started to protest again but Ben's foot got to his leg first. 

"Very good, Your Majesty. But we have been very worried about the Lady Laura and would like some reassurance that she is well and cared for with you." Ben spoke with great earnestness, Ray thought, and then wondered how that particular phrase had popped into his head. *This is getting creepy,* he thought briefly. 

"I give you my word, good Sir Knight, that she is safe and well. You can see her at the feast." The King turned and went out through a door to Ben and Ray's right off the raised floor. 

"Are you crazy?" whispered Ray to Ben. "What's this 'your majesty' stuff anyway? This is a nut house and they've got Laura back there. We need to get her and get out of here." 

"Ray, look at these people," Ben countered. "They are clean, well-clothed, well-shod, well-fed and happy. If it's a house full of less than mentally whole people, and I'm not saying it isn't, they are being taken care of, and Laura is too. Our best course of action is to go along with this until and unless there's some indication that we should take another way." 

Ray wasn't at all sure about that, but he could see Ben's point. The people did look well cared for and happy. And he had no illusions that he and Ben were severely outnumbered and weaponless. So he decided that it was prudent to go along for now and try to stay alert in case things went sour. 

Laura was thoroughly enjoying learning to play the lute. It was close enough to the guitar that she was catching on pretty quickly. She still had no idea where King John had come up with a lute but once he'd found out she could play and sing, he'd brought it almost immediately. 

But there was a lot about King John that mystified her. Was he crazy or just a resourceful and possibly wealthy eccentric who liked taking care of people? She wasn't sure. He was kind and considerate and did indeed care for all the people in the village, many of whom were indeed mentally unsound. Had he not taken them in, they would either be out on the streets or, more likely, dead. 

She remembered when she first woke up and saw the clean, happy faces of the five waiting women assigned to her. She thought she had died. She was clean and warm and they were so friendly but so strangely dressed that it was the only thing she could figure. It had taken almost a full day, and a tour of the rest of what they called the Village, before she was sure she wasn't dead. 

They had spoon-fed her broth and tea until her strength came back and then they had presented her with the most beautiful dress she had ever seen: a floor length medieval-style green brocade with good braid for trim. And it fit perfectly. She figured they must have measured her other clothes. 

The King had been particularly solicitous and it hadn't taken long to realize that whether he was crazy or not, he thought she had come to be his Queen. She knew from the beginning that that wasn't possible but she did find herself attracted to him and his kindness. For he was responsible for all these people. He organized the groups that scrounged clothes and materials from old theatres, old houses, and charity organizations. He also found sources of food and fuel. He apparently paid for the electricity. She had no idea how he managed the running water, but she was very grateful for it. 

So when he came through the door to her room, which he referred to as "My Lady's Chamber," she stood, put the lute on the chair and greeted him warmly with a deep curtsy. 

"Good my lord, it is nice to see you," she said with a smile. He returned the smile but she thought she detected a hint of sadness in it. 

"Is something wrong, my lord?" she asked. She had quickly learned the local customs in terminology and manners. 

"No, my dear. But there are two knights here claiming to be questing in search of you." 

A smile of joy went across her face which she quickly subdued. "Can you describe them for me?" she asked cautiously. She was not completely convinced that the Donnelley brothers' friends couldn't find her here. Wherever here was. 

"They are both close to me in height. One has dark curly hair and blue eyes. The other has, well, not a full head of hair," he stopped thoughtfully. Laura smiled at the descriptions. "The one with the more hair did the talking. He's wearing a red woolen uniform. He says they are both knights although the other is not dressed as one." 

"Do they go by the names Sir Benton and Sir Raymond?" she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to give her new friend a chance to be sure. 

"Yes, those are the names they gave me." King John said with a sigh that was small but that Laura heard for what it was. 

"Then those are the knights I spoke of," she said gently, taking his hand. "They have come for me as I said they would, your majesty." She looked up into his eyes and felt an almost inexpressible sadness that she could not share his world. But she could not. Not only would she not fit in, but she had found herself thinking of Ray and Ben, but especially Ray, in different ways than she had before this. Her heart had ached for his pain in her disappearance. 

The King pulled himself up and smiled at her. "I have asked Sir Richard and Sir Michael to show them around. And there will be a feast in your honor and theirs tonight. I have insisted that they remain the night with us. You should be prepared to leave in the morning." He gently took her hands and kissed them, bowed, and then left the room. 

The feast was ready and Ben and Ray were seated with the King at a long table on the raised floor when Laura came in. There was a trumpet flourish followed by a helper opening the door. 

Everyone stood as she came through the door. She was wearing a green dress with gold braid and Ray couldn't breathe. He realized that he'd always thought of her as a tomboy, but the way she looked in that dress with her hair falling down over her shoulders sent that idea fleeing from his mind. He and Ben both stepped towards her. 

Laura found herself in tears of joy at seeing them again. She took Ben's hands and squeezed them, then reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. He smiled back at her as their eyes met in a happy reunion. Ben stepped back. 

Then Ray stepped forward. Her smile and her tears touched him far more than he could ever have expressed. She squeezed his hands and kissed him on the cheek more brusquely, he thought, than she'd kissed Ben. They held onto each other's hands for as long as they could, then Ray stepped back. 

Laura sat between Ray and the King, on the King's left; Ben sat on his right. The feast was amazing: meats, breads, vegetables, fruits, potatoes, and cakes and pies galore. And there was entertainment: musicians, singers, jugglers, even a fire eater. Laura explained that everyone contributed according to his or her own gifts. Entertainers entertained. Cobblers made or repaired shoes. Carpenters made or repaired furniture. Cooks cooked. Others helped gather the food and other things the group needed. And if a person could do nothing else, he or she helped clean or helped the others in any way that was needed. 

"It works," Ray said in amazement, looking around him. "These people seem happy and content." 

"I believe that they are," King John told him. "At least, that's the goal. Without this Village, these people would be on the streets." 

"Are they crazy?" Ray asked and then quickly added, "not that any of you look crazy exactly, it's just that . . ." his voice trailed off as Ben and Laura rolled their eyes at him. 

But the King simply laughed. "A perfectly reasonable question Sir Ray. Some have mental problems, some are simply lost souls. And still others have nowhere else to go and no other family but us." He smiled. "A few have returned to the outside and we wish them well. But most of our people will be here until they die. We try to make them comfortable and make them feel productive." 

"It's nothing short of amazing," Ben added. "I've seen some Inuit villages that still adhere to the old ways. They are similar to this. But to see this in Chicago. . ." He seemed to run out of words. 

"Thank you good Sir Knights. But I must ask that you not reveal our existence. Only by not being possible do we remain intact." King John looked quite seriously at his guests. "You must promise me that you will not reveal our existence to anyone on the outside. Only our guides travel between worlds." 

Ben nodded solemnly, "Your majesty, your secret is safe with us. On our honor as Knights and as police officers, we will not reveal you to anyone. But would it be possible to know one of your guides in case we have reason to contact you again?" 

King John smiled. "Most assuredly," he said and pointed to one of the men at the end of the table. "That is the guide who brought you, Mark Todd. When you leave, he will tell you how to find him if you need to." 

"Thank you, Your Majesty." 

When the feast was over, Ben and Ray were shown to a small room with two futons on the floor. A moment later, there was a knock on the door. Ray opened it and Laura came in. It was the first time the three of them had been alone. 

"I wanted to thank you," she began with tears in her eyes. 

"For what?" Ray asked her. 

She looked at him and smiled. "For finding me. Not that I doubted that you would," she looked across at Ben, "but I was relieved that you did." 

She turned to Ben. "Thank you, good Sir Benton for understanding the need to communicate with these people in their own way." She put her arms around his neck and hugged him then pulled back. They smiled at each other. 

"Is there a washroom?" Ben asked, much to Ray's relief. 

"Yes, two doors down on the left," Laura said smiling at him fondly. 

"I won't be too long," he said as he went through the door. Ray wasn't sure if that was to reassure him or warn him. 

He and Laura faced each other. "And Ray," she said, "I know how difficult it must have been for you to go along with this." Before she could say more, Ray took her in his arms and kissed her, not on the cheek this time. 

It was awhile before they caught their breath. "He'll be back," Laura said as she stroked Ray's cheek and smiled into his eyes. 

"I know," he said and held her close, stroking her hair softly. 

They heard Ben's loud steps and obvious cough before the door opened and reluctantly separated. 

"It's very nice, Ray. Quite clean. And hot water. This place is truly remarkable, Laura." Ben said as he came through the door. 

"I'd best go," Laura said. "I think we should leave early. I really don't think I can face any more goodbyes. I told Mark to take us out by 7 a.m. so you two better get some sleep." She walked to the door and opened it. "Sweet dreams," she said with a smile, and left. 

That grass again, gloriously earthy and soft. He did like the grass. It had been a hard couple of weeks, first the sickness, then being cooped up in the apartment. The weather had finally gotten warm again and he'd been so thrilled when the yellow haired woman, Ray and the work woman had come by to take them to the Park. 

He didn't exactly understand why The Man had two packs: one was the two of them and the other was the office pack with the two women and that other man that was only there and never anywhere else with them. And then there was Ray. Ray was part of the pack, but he didn't stay with them at the apartment and he wasn't always at the office. 

Oh well. There was that ball again. He loped across the open grass blissfully. He didn't even mind that the yellow haired woman was distracting Ray from the game or that The Man was spending a lot of time with the dark woman from the office. A warm day, a flung ball, food, and all four of the his main pack members together 

. It just didn't get any better than that. 

THE END 


End file.
